May Day

I know this blog isn't about food but May Day is a pretty special memory to me. May 1st in England is a holiday and has a few traditions surrounding it. Growing up, it had another special meaning because it was the day we got to change over to our gingham short sleeve blouses and lose the tie from our uniform at school! 

May Day celebrations have their origins in the Roman festival of Flora, goddess of fruit and flowers, which marked the beginning of summer. Floralia was held annually from April 28th to May 3rd. There are also links to Beltane, a Celtic fire festival that celebrates of the coming of summer and the fertility of the coming year.

May Day has been a traditional day of festivities throughout the centuries. It is most associated with towns and villages celebrating springtime fertility and revelry with village fetes and community gatherings. Traditional English May Day rites include Morris dancing, crowning a May Queen and celebrations involving a Maypole.


I have to admit that I did the maypole dancing in our village as a kid.

                             
                                                                 Morris dancing

This is a form of dancing that is commonly practiced throughout May, although it is often seen on May Day itself. It almost always involved men, who are highly trained, and dance in sixes or eights to accordion and fiddle music. Dressed in colourful costumes, the dance moves involve much leg movement to release the sound of the bells attached to their legs, and the banging together of poles that each dancer holds. Waving handkerchiefs is also a common practice. Many areas have their own dances. 

My own memory of May Day in Oxford.


First we got up and washed our faces in the morning dew, thought to make you beautiful! Then we walked to the bridge to hear these lovely voices sing.

In Oxford, it is traditional for people to gather below the Great Tower of Magdalen College at 6.00am to listen to the college choir sing traditional madrigals as a conclusion to the previous night's celebrations. It was then thought to be traditional for some people to jump off Magdalen Bridge into the River. I think they went to great lengths to stop people doing this. 


After this we usually went to the pub, had breakfast and went home to bed! I never jumped off the bridge by the way. maybe that is because we went to the pub after the singing - we will never know!